“No one objected to me as a stranger when I went to London,” said he, proudly.

“If they are anywhere in the neighborhood,” said Lady Macleod, “I should be pleased to show them all the attention in my power, as you say they were friendly with you in London; but really, Keith, I don’t think you can ask me to invite two strangers to Dare—­”

“Then it is to the inn at Bunessan they must go?” he asked.

“Now, auntie,” said Janet Macleod, with a gentle voice, “you are not going to put poor Keith into a fix; I know you won’t do that.  I see the whole thing; it is all because Keith was so thorough a Highlander.  They were talking about Scotland:  and no doubt he said there was nothing in the country to be compared with our islands, and caves, and cliffs.  And then they spoke of coming, and of course he threw open the doors of the house to them.  He would not have been a Highlander if he had done anything else, auntie; and I know you won’t be the one to make him break off an invitation.  And if we cannot give them grand entertainments at Dare, we can give them a Highland welcome, anyway.”

This appeal to the Highland pride of the mother was not to be withstood.

“Very well, Keith,” said she.  “We shall do what we can for your friends, though it isn’t much in this old place.”

“She will not look at it that way,” he said, eagerly, “I know that.  She will be proud to meet you, mother, and to shake hands with you, and to go about with you, and do just whatever you are doing—­”

Lady Macleod started.

“How long do you propose this visit should last?” she said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, hastily.  “But you know, mother, you would not hurry your guests; for I am sure you would be as proud as any one to show them that we had things worth seeing.  We should take her to the cathedral at Iona on some moonlight night; and then some day we could go out to the Dubh Artach lighthouse—­and you know how the men are delighted to see a new face—­”

“You would never think of that, Keith,” his cousin said.  “Do you think a London young lady would have the courage to be swung on to the rocks and to climb up all those steps outside?”

“She has the courage for that or for anything,” said he.  “And then, you know, she would be greatly interested in the clouds of puffins and the skarts behind Staffa, and we would take her to the great caves in the cliffs at Gribun; and I have no doubt she would like to go out to one of the uninhabited islands.”

Lady Macleod had preserved a stern silence.  When she had so far yielded as to promise to ask those two strangers to come to Castle Dare on their round of the Western Islands, she had taken it for granted that their visit would necessarily be of the briefest; but the projects of which Keith Macleod now spoke seemed to suggest something like a summer passed at Dare.  And he went on talking in this strain, nervously delighted with the pictures that each promised excursion called up.  Miss White would be charmed with this, and delighted with that.  Janet would find her so pleasant a companion; the mother would be inclined to pet her at first sight.